Cider and Champagne
by Azkabella
Summary: Every love has a beginning.


Ginny sipped her cider and glared at Harry and Ron. They were both chuckling at George, who was trying to do some sort of square dance with Fred on the dance floor set up in the back garden of the Burrow. They'd obviously had too much champagne, unlike others. She glared at her cider. Harry and Ron got to drink champagne, why couldn't she? It was her brother's wedding, after all! That's one of those special events that should make it acceptable for one to drink champagne, but no – not Ginny. She instead had to sit with her stupid cousins and watch as everyone else laughed and clicked their champagne flutes together.  
  
Her cousins, though they were plenty, were too dull to be dealt with. Mafalda, who would soon enter her third year at Hogwarts, was the eldest. She didn't talk much, and when she did it was usually something surly. The rest were too young to even know what champagne was, therefore her laments on being forced to drink her mother's cider from last Christmas fell on deaf ears. If Hermione were here she'd let her have some of hers, but she was in London visiting her grandmother in the hospital. Ginny wondered what those Muggle hospitals were like – she'd read about doctors and nurses in her Muggle Studies textbook, but she still couldn't understand how a stethoscope worked. Hopefully her grandmother would be OK – Ginny remembered too well how painful it was after Grandma Prewett died.  
  
Harry and Ron broke both let out enormous guffaws and Ginny looked to the dance floor, where the source of their amusement could be found. Charlie and Fred were now doing some sort of jig that involved much flailing of the limbs. Aunt Gemma nearly fell onto the puddings table when Fred's foot came out of nowhere and hit her in the back of the knee.  
  
"Sorry!" he exclaimed as he and Charlie continued their inebriated dancing.  
  
With a sigh Ginny stood and walked over to where Harry and Ron were standing.  
  
"Enjoying your champagne?" she asked bitterly.  
  
"It's gorgeous; best stuff I've ever had," said Ron enthusiastically. "No, I won't give you any of mine. Stop asking already."  
  
"It's not that great, anyway," Harry told her.  
  
"At least you get to try it. I'm fifteen! If I can't have champagne at my brother's wedding, where's hope that I will have some at my own?"  
  
"Oi! No more wedding talk – especially from you!"  
  
Ron had been sour about the whole wedding ceremony ever since Bill had announced his engagement. He wasn't a fan of functions that involved the entire family, cousins and all. "Our family's big enough as it is," he'd mutter.  
  
"Oh, but I'm dying to hear what you think about the bridesmaids robes," Ginny interjected eagerly. "I can't decide on the colour – should they be lavender or sea foam? They're both quite nice, but which do you think would look better on Hermione?"  
  
"Hermione?" croaked Ron. "Why is Hermione in your wedding?"  
  
"She's the maid of honour, of course. Now, I can't think of anyone better to haul the ring down the aisle better than dear old Crookshanks. Wouldn't he be an adorable ring bearer? And you…"  
  
"Oi! Get me out of this wedding!"  
  
Ginny smiled and noticed that Harry was laughing.  
  
"You're not a fan of weddings, are you?" he asked.  
  
"Not where my little sister is concerned! You're too young for weddings, and I forbid you to think about bridesmaid's robes."  
  
Her right eyebrow arched. "You forbid me?"  
  
"Uh-oh," said Harry. "Don't call forth the wrath of a woman."  
  
"That's no woman," Ron said with a frown at her. "Well, I'm going to get more champagne," he stood on the tips of his toes and hovered over Ginny tauntingly before turning back to Harry. "Want to join?"  
  
"No, I'm fine," he replied, raising his flute which was still half full. As Ron walked away Harry looked around him frantically, as if he were making sure no one was looking.  
  
"Here." Harry handed her his champagne flute. "Take a sip before someone notices."  
  
Ginny beamed at him. She took the glass and pressed it to her lips. "Urgh!" she nearly spat as she shoved the flute back into Harry's hands. "That's disgusting! Why would anyone drink that?"  
  
"Search me," said Harry with a little laugh.  
  
"I can't believe you let me try it!" Ginny wiped any remnants from her lips and glared at Harry.  
  
"You wanted to try it!" he replied defensively.  
  
"Thanks for letting me find out on my own, at any rate." She looked over at the table where the cider and champagne was located and saw that Ron had been intercepted by their Aunt Margaret. Ginny laughed – that woman loved him for some reason, and pinched his cheeks at every opportunity.  
  
"How have you been?" Ginny asked somewhat heavily, although she had promised Ron before Harry had arrived at the Burrow that she wouldn't ask him about his summer or about the events that took place in June. But since "Auntie Maggie" had her arms around his neck, she didn't think he'd overhear their conversation.  
  
Harry seemed to clam up instantly, as if physically blocking himself from any thoughts of the previous month. "Well enough I guess."  
  
"I wanted to write you," she confessed, looking down at her cider and swirling it in counter-clockwise circles. "Couldn't think of what to write, though. It's not like I've written you any letters before."  
  
"Oh?" said Harry. She could tell that he wanted to ask what she would write to him about, but was afraid of what she might reply.  
  
"I just..." She sighed and looked into his eyes. "I know it must be hard for you, but I can't think of anything to say or do to make it better."  
  
Harry set his eyes on his shuffling feet. "I don't think there's anything anyone could say or do to make it better."  
  
Ginny glanced over at Ron to see that Uncle Barney had joined him and Aunt Margaret. He'd definitely ask about his plans for the future, something Ron wouldn't be able to answer quickly since he didn't have any future plans.  
  
Harry took a sip from his champagne. "This really is disgusting."  
  
"I'll make a note not to serve it at my wedding."  
  
He stared at her. "Thinking a lot about weddings, are you?"  
  
"No, I just like mentioning weddings around my brothers. It really freaks them out."  
  
"I'm not your brother," Harry pointed out.  
  
"No. You're not."  
  
"So how's Dean?" Harry asked with an odd emphasis on Dean's name, his eyes on the Dancefloor where Bill and Fleur were dancing slowly. They did look very happy.  
  
"Dean? Oh, right. That's over with."  
  
"He didn't break up with you, did he?"  
  
"No… not really. It was never really a relationship, that's all. It lasted a week into the summer before we just called it off."  
  
"Huh," said Harry, taking another sip of his champagne. "Ugh! I forgot," he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. Ginny laughed.  
  
"You forgot?"  
  
"Well yeah, I wasn't thinking."  
  
"Ginny!"  
  
Percy was striding clumsily towards her, his arms hanging gorilla like at his sides as he approached. "Ginny, let's have a dance!"  
  
Ginny shrunk away from his hand. "No thanks, Percy. Not much for dancing." Especially not with you, she thought bitterly, not as forgiving as the rest of her family when it came to his betrayal. Just because he comes to Bill's wedding and gets smashed didn't erase all the nasty things he had said to Dad.  
  
"Come on," he wined, grabbing her arm. "You never talk to me anymore!"  
  
"That's because you ran away to London and refused to speak to anyone!"  
  
He obviously wasn't listening. Ginny tried to shrug away, but Percy's grip was unusually tight. What was in that champagne, spinach?  
  
"Harry and I were about to have a dance, actually," she told him.  
  
"We were?"  
  
"Yes. You just asked me if I wanted to dance before Percy came over." She stared pointedly at him.  
  
"Oh, right. Yeah Perce, sorry."  
  
"OK, fine. I'll see if Penelope wants to dance."  
  
As soon as he was gone Ginny grunted and rubbed her arm where his hand had been. "Ugh, he's such an ass!"  
  
"At least he's here."  
  
"I wish he wasn't," she replied caustically.  
  
"Are you sure about that?"  
  
Harry's eyes seemed a bit distant as he asked this. She realised that he must be thinking about Sirius. No, she didn't wish Percy were dead – maybe cursed to live as a flobberworm for the rest of his life – but dead… no.  
  
"He's such a prat!" she hissed, shaking her head with disappointment.  
  
"I'll drink to that. Well," he glared at his champagne. "Maybe not."  
  
Ginny laughed and Harry smiled. He had a nice smile, when he actually decided to show it.  
  
"That – bloody – woman!" Ron panted as he returned, his face beat red and his collar a mess. Aunt Margaret must've had him in a headlock.  
  
"I'd stay away from her if I were you, Harry. Just because you're not family doesn't mean you won't be smothered. I hate weddings!"  
  
Harry laughed. "Want to sit down?"  
  
"Yeah," Ron muttered. "Wouldn't mind."  
  
Ginny took a seat at the table next to Ron.  
  
"That's Fred's seat, you know."  
  
"Fred's a bit busy at the moment, I'm sure he won't mind."  
  
Indeed, Fred could be seen kneeling behind one of the bushes near the house.  
  
"That dancing didn't help keep anything in, did it?" Harry laughed. "Are all the Weasleys horrible dancers?"  
  
"You might want to watch what you say," said Charlie, having a seat beside Harry. "There are about fifty of us here. I know you're good at fighting Dementors, but a Patronus won't save you here."  
  
"A glass of champagne might," Harry replied and they all turned and laughed in Fred's direction.  
  
"Poor Fred," Ginny muttered. "Although he does deserve it, the gluttonous sloth."  
  
"Sloth?" said Harry. "Do you know how much work he and George have been putting into their shop?"  
  
"Do you?" asked Ron somewhat suspiciously. Ginny thought it was unnecessary, but the guilty look on Harry's face made her change her mind.  
  
"Well, you can just tell."  
  
"So, Ron," Charlie began, rubbing his calloused hands together. "Got yourself a girlfriend yet?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"C'mon, Ron! Even Percy had a girlfriend at this point. Fred and George… well, they had each other, if that can come out without sounding wrong."  
  
"Nope," laughed Harry.  
  
"Well, they had their shop in mind. You, Mr. Ronald Weasley, have only Quidditch to distract you from the ladies. Got any in sights? What about that Hermione girl?"  
  
"What about Hermione?"  
  
"Oh, Ron likes her," Ginny interjected with a wicked grin. "He's not too subtle about it."  
  
"What do you know about anything, Ginny?" Ron had both of his hands on the table, his knuckles almost as white as the tablecloth.  
  
"Ron, what's the big deal? It's not like it's a secret."  
  
She turned to Harry for backup, but he kept looking between her and Ron in trepidation.  
  
"You going to date her, then?" Charlie asked with a silly grin on his face.  
  
"I'm not dating anyone! And you shut up about hiding feelings," he spat at Ginny. "I'm not the one who pined after Harry all these years!"  
  
Her jaw dropped. How dare he bring that up after all this time – in front of Harry!  
  
"You know Ron," she spoke in a dangerously low voice. "You're a mean drunk."  
  
She snatched Harry's glass and tossed the champagne into Ron's face before storming away from the table. The three remaining sat in stunned silence as Ron wiped Harry's drink from his eyes. Harry stared at the empty glass with bemusement. "Thanks," he muttered inaudibly.  
  
Ginny slammed the creaky door to the shed behind her and sat on an upturned bucket. She stood quickly, making sure no red paint chips would get on her dress robes before sitting again.  
  
She was humiliated. Not only did he embarrass her in front of Harry, but Charlie was there as well. She chewed on her thumbnail and stared at the workbench on which an assortment of odd things were scattered. Goodness, she hadn't been in here in ages. She'd been to the broomshed adjacent but not inside the work shed. Her dad didn't have as much time for it anymore and it became a bit shabbier than it was before, making it even less appealing than before.  
  
Her feelings for Harry were no one's business, she thought ruefully as she stabbed the heel of her shoe into the soil floor. She pulled it out and made another hole in the ground, as if it were some sort of art form she had just discovered. It's not like she was in love with him – she thought she was… well, maybe she was. Love is blind, they say. She was certainly blind to his stubborn nature – she dug her heel into the ground – and how silly his hair really was, sticking up in every direction. She tried pulling her heel out of the soil but she'd apparently dug it too deep. Taking her foot out of her shoe she began to pull at it with her hands. No luck.  
  
"Dammit," she muttered, spitefully kicking the shoe with her stocking-covered foot.  
  
And he just sat there and said nothing. He was probably thinking poor little Ginny, can't get over my obvious appeal. Smarmy git.  
  
Ginny stopped chewing on her thumbnail and laughed at herself. She runs off in a huff, angry at Ron, and somehow she'd turned it on Harry. She laughed as she thought of the old saying. If love was blind, then must be mad with love.  
  
"Are you mad?!"  
  
"Charlie," Harry began. "I don't see why you're so upset…"  
  
"He's drunk, Harry."  
  
"Shut up, Ron! You should've told me that Ginny and Harry were an item!"  
  
"We weren't an item!" Harry screeched, his voice breaking.  
  
"Ginny liked you and you never did anything about it? You didn't talk to her at all?"  
  
"It's not like her heart's broken! She's dated two guys in the past year."  
  
"Two guys?" said Charlie, nearly in shock. "Ginny's dated?"  
  
"Yeah. My friend Dean and Michael whatsit," Ron replied.  
  
"Corner."  
  
"Huh?" said Ron, massaging his forehead.  
  
"His last name was Corner."  
  
"You remember him well," Charlie pointed out suspiciously.  
  
"He was in the D.A.," Harry retorted defensively.  
  
"Only because he was dating Ginny."  
  
"Thanks for pointing that out, Ron."  
  
"What's your problem?"  
  
"Nothing," Harry replied coldly. "I'm going to the loo."  
  
Harry couldn't believe that Charlie would get so worked up about Ginny. If he had brushed her off like she was nothing it would be different, but he didn't do anything to her!  
  
The door to the shed opened with a loud creak. Ginny stopped kicking her shoe and looked up to see Harry framed by the moonlight.  
  
"Sorry," he said, turning to leave.  
  
"For what?" Ginny asked bitterly.  
  
"Excuse me?" Harry turned to face her and found fierceness in her eyes.  
  
"Well, I was just wondering what you had to apologise for. You are totally innocent of everything, you know."  
  
"Pretty rich of you to accuse me of anything, isn't it?"  
  
"What does that mean?" She stood quickly and almost fell backwards due to her missing shoe. She wasn't going to put up with this humiliation. "You think I'm some kind of pathetic idiot?"  
  
"Do you think I don't care about anyone but myself?"  
  
"No," they both answered angrily. They stared at each other, neither willing to be the first to look away. It was if they were playing some game. Ginny almost wanted make a face so he'd blink or laugh.  
  
"What are you doing in here?" Harry asked.  
  
"I should ask you the same thing."  
  
"Then why don't you?"  
  
"Fine, what are you doing here?" She crossed her arms and stared at him. He had some nerve, acting like he owned the place just because Mum felt sorry for him.  
  
"I was trying to get away from your stupid brother."  
  
"Ugh, Ron's such an idiot," she muttered sympathetically, uncrossing her arms and looking away.  
  
"Not Ron, Charlie."  
  
"What's wrong with Charlie?"  
  
"He thinks I'm…" Harry stopped and stared at her. "Why are we yelling?"  
  
"Why are you yelling?"  
  
"How did we get mad at each other?"  
  
Ginny's brow furrowed. "I dunno," she replied, still slightly defensive.  
  
"I hate weddings," Harry moaned.  
  
"Me too."  
  
They looked at each other and laughed.  
  
"Sorry I threw your drink."  
  
"You did me a favour."  
  
Harry put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the work table.  
  
"You going back out there?"  
  
"I wasn't planning on it."  
  
Ginny sat back down on the bucket. OK.  
  
"I don't think you're pathetic, you know," Harry said suddenly. "I never thought you were pathetic."  
  
"Thanks. And you obviously don't just think of yourself. You wouldn't be such a hero if that were the case."  
  
Harry winced. "Hero?"  
  
"Hey," said Ginny. "There's nothing wrong with that."  
  
"It killed Sirius," he murmured.  
  
Ginny stood up and Harry flinched as she approached, expecting another verbal attack.  
  
"You didn't kill Sirius. You know that. Tell me that you know that."  
  
"I know that if I hadn't have gone to the Department of Mysteries that Sirius wouldn't have died. How can I not be responsible, Ginny?" He looked into her eyes, as if hoping she had the answer. "What am I supposed to think? What am I supposed to feel?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Harry looked down at his shoes. "I guess we should go back out to the party."  
  
Ginny nodded. "Mum'll get upset if we're gone too long."  
  
"Ugh, my shoe!"  
  
Ginny dropped to her knees and started tugging on her shoe, the heel of it still wedged into the earth.  
  
"How did you manage that?" Harry asked as it plopped out, a plant root wrapped around the heel.  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
They left the shed together in silence. As they walked the path towards the Burrow Harry grabbed her wrist and stopped.  
  
"You know, I don't get it."  
  
"Huh?" She could relate.  
  
"Did I say something to you? Is that why you stopped liking me?"  
  
"Harry," said Ginny, staring at him as she would a senile old woman. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"Hermione said that you used to fancy me, but you gave up on me. Not that… I never led you on or anything, did I?"  
  
"No," said Ginny, not liking this conversation. "You know I liked you, Harry. I didn't make it a big secret," she added with a blush. "And no, you didn't do or say anything to make me stop liking you. I just realised that you didn't fancy me so I was just wasting my time. Now we can be normal around each other," she added with a little smile. "As normal as we can be, that is."  
  
Harry laughed. "Yeah, normal."  
  
The sound of the rocks and dirt behind their shuffling feet was almost deafening as they continued back towards the wedding party.  
  
"Do you think Ron will ask Hermione out this year?" Ginny asked.  
  
"I don't know," said Harry uncertainly. "Do you think she'll say yes?"  
  
"Oh, I know she will. All he has to do is ask her."  
  
Harry grinned. "Fancy that."  
  
"Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know." William Shakespeare 


End file.
